


Waiting

by Slantedlight (BySlantedlight)



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-15 00:38:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11794806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BySlantedlight/pseuds/Slantedlight
Summary: Days in the life...





	Waiting

It was quietest at breakfast, in the warm, comfortable glow of the night before. There were sleep-drenched smiles over tea, the brush of hands as toast was passed from plate to plate, memories of warmth and comfort and the peace of the world being outside, still far away, not yet gooseberrying its way between them.

But it began again, of course it began again.

Too soon towels and bathrobes were strewn over furniture, clothes and holsters donned, pockets loaded with spare clips, with someone’s blood and death to come. There would be traffic jams, car fumes, hissed curses as yet another idiot cut in front of them on the way to work, someone whose life they’d maybe save that day, their oblivious, idiot life.

And then George Cowley, always George Cowley, with the complications of the world at his fingertips.

Lunch was always a rush – perhaps a sausage sandwich at Nellie’s caff, or half-eaten trays of stodgy food, or just a dozen cups of barely drunk tea before they were sent off yet again to this grass, that informer, some poor sod just trying to make their way in a world that didn’t want him, someone who’d not had their breaks, couldn’t make their own luck. Someone who they might have been, without their chances, with other choices.

They came together again when it was over, sometimes even at the end of the day, like any other butcher or baker or candlestick maker. Then they would sit at the table, have dinner, speak low and desultory or in a growl or a grumble about what they’d done, could have done, should have known. It was quiet then too, but it was the exhausted quiet of a hard job, done even harder.

They might go out, they might stay in, there might even be women to take their minds off the day that had come after breakfast, but they both knew that they were waiting. They were waiting for the dark, for fast kisses on soft cheeks, for the slamming of taxi doors as the girls were taken home.

They were waiting for the night before the next quiet breakfast.

_July 2017_

**Author's Note:**

> Written for all the gang at the German Pros gathering - Milomaus, Macklingirl, Potztausend, Roven, Little Roven, Siskiou, Firefly and Dragonfly. Danke!


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